


the blossoms' lament

by mountaindews



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Hanahaki AU, M/M, Mentions of Blood, What have I written, mentions of throwing up, slight gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 00:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8600338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountaindews/pseuds/mountaindews
Summary: When spring comes, miracles claim their share back.(...)« Maa-kun, do you love me? »« Wha-what kind of question is it? Of course I do. »Liar, he feels the flowers, the coppery, acid taste he’s come to know too well, pressing in his throat, Maa-kun is a liar.





	

When spring comes, the roots in his chest crush his ribcage, feeding blood to the purple flowers in his lungs.  
But it starts in winter, with a single petal and a burning spot of red on his pillow. It’s when all flowers have died, all blossoms have withered, that his organs start blooming. Whether it’s a miracle or a curse, he can’t tell.  
(It’s more likely both, a blessed misfortune.)  
But the coughing keeps him awake, and lying stiffly on their old, broken couch doesn’t help him escape at all.

_(Tick, tok.)_

 

He doesn’t even ask himself why, or how. It clicked into place at the first petal.  
He just knows.  
The smell of vomit, blood and flowers is so unpleasant, his back curves over the sink again.  
What the mirror sends back is paper-thin skin, fading red eyes, black, heavy circles around them, making them look even more crimson, like pools of blood trapped in his eye sockets. Some would call him beautiful, some a work of art.  
(He calls himself broken.)

 

Flower can’t grow without light, can’t bloom or grow roots without sunshine.  
Mao shines brightly, too brightly. Just the thought of his smile starts the coughing again, and again, and again; as his fists hit the mirror, weaker and weaker, until his open palms are just pathetically sliding down the tear-streamed cheeks of his reflection, Ritsu wonders why he had to ruin everything.  
(Why the flowers can’t just die in his stomach, knowing the sunshine won’t ever reach them.) 

_(Tick, tok.)_

 

Maybe the flowers are payback  
_(tick –)_  
for his selfishness. Maybe  
_(tick,_ _tok_ _)_  
they’re everything he can offer  
_(_ _his bleeding fingers hide bloodied white petals as his back hits the lockers, his heavy, heavy eyelids hiding tears)  
_ to a heart that blooms, and doesn’t bleed.

_Tick,_

His laugh pours like spring rain as he kisses that girl’s lips,

_tok._

 

« Maa-kun » his hand lingers on his cheek, and so does the small smile on his lips, « do you love me? »  
Warm. His skin is warm. Under his fingertips, it flares even warmer.  
« Wha-what kind of question is it? Of course I do. »  
_Liar,_ he feels the flowers, the coppery, acid taste he’s come to know too well, pressing in his throat, _Maa-kun is a liar._ Instead he hums, satisfied, tapping on his cheek.  
He loves him. Enough to hurt, not enough to keep him alive.  
« Of course. »

_ ( Tick, tok.) _

 

« You have to tell him. »  
« Mh-mhh. »  
« Are you even listening to me? »  
« Telling him won’t change anything, Secchan. He – »  
« Kuma-kun » Izumi is really losing his patience now, but for once it’s not his temper cracking – it’s his voice, and even that barely shakes Ritsu, lying on the couch his face hidden in the cushions « you’re fucking _dying_. He has to listen to you. »  
« How? »  
Izumi punches the wall behind the couch, and Ritsu can feel it vibrating. He moves a little closer to the pillows, hiding a little more, trying to not listen to what Izumi will say, whatever may it be.  
Izumi, though, says nothing. He just breathes hard for a couple of seconds, and Ritsu relishes in the silence.  
« There has to be a way » he still sounds angry, but he’s worried, he knows. For a moment, he’s glad he’s there. At least someone cares, still cares, when it’s clear he’s given up.  
« I can’ force Maa-kun to love me. Not more than he does. He doesn’t deserve to know this. »  
« Kuma-kun – »  
« You know how it feels, right, Secchan? »  
_(tick –)  
_ « You know how it’s like. Loving someone so much, and not having anything back. You know it better than me. »  
_(tick–)  
_ « But you know what the solution brings, do you? »  
« Kuma-kun » gentle, yet brash, Izumi speaks like his lips are closed « I’m not letting you die without trying. I’m not letting you die. »  
« That’s very selfish of you » Ritsu mutters, looking down to his fingers – blood has dried under the nails, between the cracks of the skin, « Izumi. »  
It’s the final drop. Izumi falls on his knees, and Ritsu hears it, the ugly sobbing and the sniffing and the sudden loud, piercing yell that breaks through his buzzing ears and splatters on the walls, resounding again and again and –  
« Let it be so » the reply comes muffled, scratching; when he turns, finally, icy pupils rimmed in red are already turning to the door, trying to hide the tears and any evidence that the scream was real, and not the product of his collapsing brain « die then. »

_ ( Tick, tok.)  
(He has no time left for regrets.) _

 

The rose he’s holding onto is prickling his fingers, getting under his skin with every shiver, every breath. The thorns in his throat won’t let him breathe, won’t let him gasp for air – just cough, cough again, until everything is red and acid, bitter, intoxicatingly sweet mix on his tongue, and flowers stick to the sink with the splashes of blood and that oh so unpleasant smell. It’s disgusting. He’s disgusting.  
He should just die, die, die, his body give up, vanish.  
« Maa-kun » slips past his chapped lips, red and bleeding, and it hits him. He’s done for. Nobody deserves to feel guilty for his pitiful, disgusting state.  
« Maa-kun » he would cry, if his eyes allowed him, but they’re dry and hurt like his throat; every syllable hurts, every blink of eye stings, every – « Maa-kun, Maa-kun… »  
_Tick, tok.  
_ Maa-kun wouldn’t want this. But his light slipped away without both of them noticing, never too far to let him forget it, never in his reach. _It’s fine._ « Anija… Secchan, Ou-sama… »  _He’s sorry._

 

When spring comes,  
_(tick, tok)  
_ miracles claim their share back.  
The single striped lily the hand is still clinging to, lifeless and cold as it sways from the side of the bathtub, has started withering, and the weak steam cannot hold the feather weight of the petals anymore. The cold tiles of the floor, stained in crimson and purple from the flowers he’s shed, are not close to be as cold as the skin that so lightly touches them.  
The arms of the clock have stopped moving, but they still sound somewhere in the house, echoes. A new winter will come after the spring, after all. The sun will move still. _  
_ « Ritchan? Can I talk to you for a second? Are you busy in the bath? »  
_(They go tick –)  
_ « Ritchan? » _  
(tok.)_

**Author's Note:**

> i will fix this but now it's like 3 am and i've been writing for hours i just want to go to bed  
> pwease no steppy


End file.
